Chapter Text
Tommy knew he had to do this, he couldn’t let Dream get to his family. He couldn’t-wouldn’t-let him hurt the people he loved. So he knew what he had to do when Dream escaped. He didn’t tell his family what he was doing because he knew they wouldn’t let him, but he had to. He gave all to serious and sentimental goodbyes and tight hugs, and he made sure Tubbo and Ranboo promised to take care of Shroud if anything were to happen to him.
Dream was coming after him and his family but he did something. He made a negotiation.
He gave himself up to Dream if he left his family (Tubbo, Ranboo, Micheal, and Shroud) alone.
And Dream had agreed with that disgustingly happy smirk on his face.
With a feeling of dread pooling in his stomach, he let the masked man guide him away
~
He shoots up screaming in pain. Prime, it hurt, it hurt so bad. He was dying, he was dying and prime did dying hurt.
Screaming out into the void he was going to be going to soon.
His hands flew to his hair and pulled at his hair. His finger tugged at his scalp. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe because he was dying and-
Someone is touching him.
He pulled and pulled trying to get away from the grasp holding onto his wrists. He didn’t know who it was but he just couldn’t open his eyes to look. He knew that they weren’t the hands of Tubbo or Ranboo though, it wasn’t Tubbo’s scarred and calloused hands or Rambo smooth hands and long fingers.
No this was different, And a different person, someone who isn't Tubbo or Ranboo, right now was not good.
He yanked and yelled for whoever it was “let go of me! Please, please, let go please” his screams died down into sobs and pleas. His voice quieted until he could hear the other person talking.
“-mmy, Tommy can you hear me—-alm down—-safe-”
Who was it? Are they going to hurt him? They're going to hurt him, everyone wants to hurt him. Is it Dream? Oh, prime, it was Dream wasn’t it.
His chest was heaving deeply but he wasn’t getting enough air. He felt like he was suffocating, he couldn’t breathe.
“Calm down. You’re safe, you’re fine, everything’s fine. Can you hear me, do anything, can you hear me?-“
Tommy nodded, or did his best attempt at a nod in his frantic state. He didn’t want to get hurt more than he was going to, so he decided for now to follow his orders.
“Good, good.” He finally let the other person take his wrist and put one of his hands on the other's chest. “Now try and match my breathing ok? Take deep breaths”
Tommy tried, he tried, but it was so hard. Especially without his friends but after much longer than usual he finally got his breathing under control.
“OK. there we go, you got it. Now can you open your eyes?”
Tommy completely forgot he had his eyes screwed shut, only when he asked that question did he remember. He slowly and cautiously opened his eyes.
What he saw shocked him because who he saw in front of him was none other than “Phil?” he choked out.
The man gave out an all too familiar lighthearted, yet confused, chuckle “since when did you call me Phil? Do I no longer hold the title of dad?” he joked
But his lighthearted joke didn’t help clear anything up in Tommy’s mind. Quite the opposite, he hadn’t called Phil dad since they left for the Dream Smp. So why was he so confused? Tommy’s confusion suddenly shifted back to panicked confusion because, why was he here? Was he working with Dream? Did Dream kill him too? Were they back in the void? “Oh shit” Phil mumbled as he took in the sight of his son going back to his previously panicked state.
“Tommy what's going on? You’re safe, you don’t need to panic” he tried to not let his own panic seep into his concerned voice.
“No, no, no-no- *gasp* nonononono” he gasp out for air as he mumbled
Phil didn’t know what to do, he had calmed down only for him to start up again. He did the only thing he could think of and just hugged the young boy. He hugged him and could only hope that all the love, comfort, and security he could put into it would be received by his son.
Surprisingly, compared to earlier, this action helped. Tommy had started to calm down, arms wrapping around Phils torso in a tight emotion filled hug. Phil tried his best to consol the sobbing child in his arms, focusing all his energy on that task and less on his other son standing worried in the doorway. “Dad? Is Tommy ok?”
Phil cleared his throat “Yeah, i think he’s ok now Will”
Both Wilbur and Phil gave a sigh of relief at the answer.
Phil very slowly pulled back to look at the son lying limply in his arms.
He looks drained of energy, eyes red and puffy. Tears still rolling lazily down his tear tracked face. His hair was disheveled and sticking to his sweat ridden forehead. “Tommy?”
Said boy slowly looked up. Tommy looked up to see his father staring down at him with caring concern, and to see the silhouette of the brother he knows so well. “Wilbur?” he asks, voice hoarse from screaming and crying mere moments earlier
It doesn’t make sense, Wilburs dead, but Phils here. Why does nothing make sense anymore? “Oh, Toms. What's going on? What's wrong?” The brunette asked kindly
Tommy relaxed slightly, if this was what his limbo would be like for however long he will be here, maybe this won't be so bad. His father (for whatever reason he was here, Tommy forgot to continue questioning it. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough anymore) comforting him, his brother kind like he used to be. This would be nice. He felt the hand of his brother pushing his hair off of his forehead. Phil’s arms were sturdy and warm as his upper body was able to be held up by him. Wilbur’s hand is soft, not rough and calloused like they used to be, no longer riddled with scars but smooth. He leaned into the hand despite his better judgment.
“Toms?” He asked again
He sighed in response. Without fully knowing the situation he answered “I’m good now, don’t know how long I’ll be here, but right now this is-this is nice. I like this”
He sounded out of breath, but that wasn’t what caught the attention of the older two. “What do you mean by you don’t know how long you’ll be here? We don’t have to go anywhere”
Tommy whined at the blonds not understanding “no, I’ll have to go, I wont stay here this time either” he looked to Wilbur in hopes of him explaining, Wilbur was there the first time he died and was revived, he should understand. Yet he looked just as confused as his dad.
“Honey, you obviously had a very bad nightmare. So just try and relax, do you want to go back to sleep or do you want something else”
Tommy didn’t want to go to sleep, sure he was tired and drained but sleep only brought all the painful memories back. “I don’t wanna go to sleep”
Phil nodded “we could” he hummed in thought “we could make you hot chocolate, you always like hot chocolate after a bad night”
Tommy had practically melted at the thought of hot chocolate. It used to be a constant in his life, hot chocolate after bad dreams or hard days, during cold winters cuddled up with family. He had only had it 2 times in the past 2 years. He’s gotten to have hot chocolate with Tubbo after they successfully put Dream in prison and again with Tubbo and Ranboo in Snowchester after his first revival. Hot coco sounded so good right now. “Wilbur, could you make Tommy some hot chocolate while I get us situated down stairs?”
Wilbur had nodded, grasping at the chance given to help his distressed baby brother. Phil had sat in silence for a few more moments before easily picking Tommy up so he could move them.
At the sudden movement Tommy flinched and his face scrunched up in fear. He stayed still and stiff as the man who radiates warmth carried him. Carried him all the way to the comfy couch he was placed carefully on, as if he might break, the thought made him want to scoff but when he tried all that came out was a choked up cry. He felt broken, small, insignificant.
When Tommy opened up his eyes to see the old family living room just as it used to be. With pictures everywhere, more of techno’s achievements than Wilbur’s and Tommy’s combined, but he didn’t care now. Philza was lighting the fireplace, Tommy was covered in a blanket he used to love, and Wilbur was sitting down 3 cups of Hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of him. Wilbur sat down next to Tommy and scooted right next to him. “Hey Toms,” he said sweetly.
Tommy, surprising himself as well, snuggled up to his older brother and mumbled out a “Hi Will”
This was nice “do you want to talk about it?”
Not so nice, but better than being demanded to talk about it, so there’s that. But what if he was just pretending to give him that option, Wilbur used to do that before the demanding started. Maybe he could convince Wilbur not to make him, he didn’t want to share what happened.
“No, no, please no, I don’t want to” he didn’t want to talk about his death.
“It’s ok mate, you don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready”
“Really?” Till he was ready, what a weird saying. As if he’ll ever be ready, who’s ever fully ready to talk about their death. “Can- can I wait?”
“Of course” Phil was seriously confused and concerned. How bad was his nightmare, he’d never acted like this before. He was usually loud, yelling about how was fine and didn’t need their help, he usually pushed them away and tried to deal with it on his own, even when they wanted to help.
But now, he was quiet, stuttering, he sounded scared. He was cuddled up against Wilbur, he was asking them if he could wait like he needed their permission. He was just acting so unlike himself.
“Do you need anything else Tommy?”
“No thanks, I’m good,” he mumbled out.
Wilbur chuckled at the scene of Tommy snuggling into his own side, he hadn’t done this in years. The brunette didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad. He was happy to get to be close with his brother again, but since this wasn’t normal something big must’ve happened to make him want this again.
Just as things seemed to fully settle, settle into a comfortable atmosphere, something changed. Tommy got lost in his head, which was never good.
He thought about the “life” he’ll have once he’s revived over and over and over again.
He thought about the life he gave up.
He thought about the people he left for their own safety.
He thought, and he cried.
“Tommy? Hey, hey, Tommy there’s no need to cry” Wilbur tried to console him but it wouldn’t work
“I’m so-sorry I just-I just, I’m going to missss them so muuuccchhh” he sobbed.
He was going to miss Tubbo’s effortlessly hilarious jokes
He was going to miss Ranboo’s caring nature
He was going to miss Micheal’s squeals of happiness
He was going to miss Shroud’s laugh
Tommy was going to miss all the wonderful family moments he’d got to spend with all of them, his family, recently that he hadn’t got to know before.
Wilbur didn’t understand what was rushing through Tommy’s head, but whatever it was he was going to help him. “Tommy everything’s fine. Ok, listen to me, everything is fine.” Wilbur tried not to ask about who Tommy was talking about, who the “them” he was going to miss so much was. But right now comforting his brother was his top priority.
The brunette held the blond in his arms, rubbing his back softly waiting for his tears to stop. Wilbur hated seeing his brother like this, it was unlike anything he’d experienced with Tommy. He’d never broke down like this, he’d never sobbed so wholeheartedly like this.
“Tommy, there we go, Tommy? Please tell me what’s wrong, anything, I’ll do whatever I can to help” Wilbur pleaded.
He glanced over to his father, the man only watching the scene unfold before him. A glare momentarily found its way to his face before reminding himself that this wasn’t about him, this was about Tommy. Tommy who’s sobs temporarily stopped so he could choke out a few words.
“Everything!” He screamed “everything’s wrong, I-I don’t e-e-even know where I wo-ould start.”
The oldest man in the room finally decided to speak again. “What would make you feel better? Even if everything seems wrong there must be something you want?” ” He hoped Tommy did have something, otherwise he would just feel stupid and useless.
Tommy tried to bury his head impossibly further into Wilbur. A small mumble of “nothing you can get me”
“Hm?”
“Nothing you can get me” he spit out
“You can’t get me the people I want, you can’t get me Tubbo, you-“
“Tubbo?” Wilbur questioned
Tommy tensed under his questioning gaze “yeah?” He whispered out unsure of what Wilbur had really wanted him to say. Did Will not want him to mention Tubbo? Was Will going to be upset? Was Wilbur going to yell at him- “I can go get Tubbo”
What?
Tommy looked up at Wilbur with the most confused look. “How about I go wake him up?” Phil offered
And while Tommy was slowly becoming less and less sure of where he was, and he had no idea how they would get Tubbo here, he quickly nodded.
Phil gave a reassuring smile then got up and left the room. Leaving only Tommy and Wilbur. It hadn’t been only Tommy and Wilbur since Pogtopi- no, since the last time he was in limbo. The fear creeping up his throat was squashed down when the curly haired brunette squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. They stayed like that for who knows how long before the creaking of the door sounded. “Tommy?” a very recognisable yet somehow completely forgien voice asked.
Tommy’s eyes darted to the door hoping to see “Tubs?” he shot up, ignoring the way his legs ached, and darted over to his brother, his best friend, someone he thought he’d never be able to see again. He ran and almost tackled him. The only reason they didn’t end up on the floor was because Phil was still standing next to Tubbo and had caught them. He just stayed holding onto the smaller boy tightly, not daring to move or let go in case this is just his mind, or limbo, just playing tricks on him, and the moment he lets go Tubbo will be gone. “Tommy?” he questioned in surprise. Having fully woken up by the action
Tommy slowly pulled back from Tubbo, one hand on his shoulder and one hand hovering ever so slightly over the part of his face that should be scarred. Key word: should be. Instead of the large scar that unusually covers half of his face the skin is smooth and clear. His mouth was not messed up from an unsafe and hurried patch up. Once he realizes that he starts to see other differences. His hair is shorter, no longer completely covering his eyes. His horns aren’t curled around his ears, in fact they haven’t grown in yet. He’s a lot skinnier and less muscular than the current Tubbo he knows who could easily do push ups with Ranboo and Tommy on his back no problem. But he doesn’t know how to feel when he looks into his friends eyes and sees innocence. He sees hope that hadn’t yet been squashed by years of hurt. He doesn’t know how to feel because that look, so untouched and pure, was now foriegn to him. This Tubbo standing right in front of him looked so much younger.
“Tommyyyy? Hello? What's wrong big man?”
Tommy clears his throat, “nothn’ man, just wanted to see you”
The other looked at him unimpressed but with a small smile on his face “see me? Well I'm flattered, but it’s like 2:30 in the morning. And i doubt dad was sent to wake me up just ‘cause you wanted to see me”
“Well-uh- i'm just-just that important!” he breathed a small “yeeeah” under his breath after finishing.
Part of Tommy was trying to figure out how old this Tubbo was. Maybe, 15? No when he was 15 you could start to see his horns peeking out from his hair. He must be 14. Why did everyone look and act like they used to, like they did when they were younger, when things were better. It didn’t make sense, what was he in the past? He mentally joked about the idea, but then he actually thought about it.
It did make sense, and answered a lot of his questions. But that couldn’t be it right? Right?
“Do you wanna tell me what’s really wrong?”
“Not right now” he answered, giving into telling Tubbo that, yes, something was wrong.
Tubbo paused but nodded anyway. “C’mon and sit down,” Wilbur called from his place on the couch. Tubbo grabbed Tommy’s hand and pulled him to the couch next to Wilbur, squishing the blond between the two brunettes. Said blond looked back up to Wilbur, and with the thought of some sort of time travel on his mind, searched his brother's face for the differences. The clearer skin, the worry lines little to not noticeable at all, but most of all his eyes. His eyes were truly what they used to be before the events of the SMP ruined him.
After evaluating Tubbo’s and now Wilbur’s face, he turned to look at Phil. he was sitting in his armchair, looking at Tommy but having a book in his hands that Tommy guessed he was going to read. Phil didn’t look as different as his brothers, he looked surprisingly similar, but now that he thought about it he never changed how he looked dramatically. His hair wasn’t as long now it was still growing, his face was warmer and kinder than last time he saw him, and obviously his wings…well y’know.
If he was in the past, and no one was questioning his looks, he must be in his past body. And with a quick glance at his soft, baby skin smooth, unscared and unscathed hands further proved that.
TommyInnit was in the past.